Trent
The scruff on his face nearly did me in.
I couldn’t stop looking at his jaw, thinking about the way it felt when my lips and chin rubbed over his.
You ever take a sip of freshly brewed iced tea? Where the drink is still slightly warm and super sweet from being boiled to dissolve the sugar. But your glass is filled with ice, so you get the combination of warm and cold swirling together as it hits your tongue. That first sip while the temperatures mix is always the best.
That’s what it’s like to kiss someone with a scruffy jaw. Except every sip from their lips tastes like that. The ice never melts; the temperature never changes.
Drew was like an endless glass of that perfect liquid.
His lips were smooth, but the hair around them was textured. As we kissed, the sensation of his stubble moving against me was addictive. Soft but rough. Itchy but soothing. It added a layer to a simple kiss I never knew existed.
One.
That’s all it took.
One and done.
I was done wondering. Done trying to tell myself this was wrong. Done attempting to convince myself I didn’t really love him.
I did.
I loved Drew. The kind of love I thought only men and women could have. The kind of love I saw between Romeo and Rimmel. Between Braeden and Ivy.
I wanted more.
The urge to grab his face and rub my lips all along his jaw and fill my arms with his body was almost too much.
Not yet. Maybe not ever.
As urgent as it felt, there was an urge even stronger. To protect Drew. To shield him. There was no way in hell he didn’t feel at least half of what I did a few moments ago. I’d felt his hard-on, though I tried not to rub against it.
His erection wasn’t the only thing I felt, though. I felt the weakness in his knees and the tremble in his hands.
He was scared.
I understood that probably better than anyone. This was unchartered territory for both of us, and I didn’t want to fuck it up.
Drew and I were friends first, and whatever this was… that was second. He needed my friendship right now more than I needed to ravage his lips.
I wanted to know what he was thinking. What he was feeling. If he was as totally lost in me as I was in him.
Fat chance.
But a guy could dream, couldn’t he?
He was still against the wall, looking a little shell-shocked. I retreated, giving him back the personal space I was oh so happy to invade.
“Want some coffee?” I asked, grabbing some mugs out of the cabinet and turning my back to him. Once I was totally turned, I reached into my jeans and adjusted my junk. I was still rock hard.
Clearly, my dick didn’t agree it was a good idea to give Drew some space.
“Uh, sure,” he answered.
I poured the rich liquid into two mugs and added the correct amount of cream and sugar. When I was finished, it seemed like the simple task hadn’t taken long enough. Electricity still sizzled in the air, and my heart was still thudding erratically.
I leaned back against the counter’s edge and looked across the room. “Where is everyone?”
“Not here,” he said. His eyes sought mine. “Won’t be back ‘til Sunday night.”
Well, that answer wasn’t going to help soften up my dick.
He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath his skin. Once again, I felt my eyes lingering on the light-colored scruff on his jaw.
“I like you unshaven,” I blurted out. I reared back like I’d punched myself in the face. I wasn’t the type to say stupid shit. I was the type that kept it all contained.
He was unraveling me.
I worried my obvious attraction to his facial hair would be too much.
I underestimated him. His teeth flashed, and a warm, almost flirty chuckle bubbled from between his lips. Drew rubbed his palm over his chin and neck.
It made me jealous.
“Yeah?”
I bobbed my head, not trusting my tongue enough to not say something else I might regret.
“Noted,” he murmured. The blue of his eyes narrowed on my face, his gaze dropping to my lips.
He liked kissing me.
Euphoria made me lightheaded, and I covered my smile by turning back to pick up the mugs. When I carried them across the room, Drew’s eyes followed me, like he was hungry.
This is good. Let him think about it. Let him want without any pressure.
Everyone knew a warm engine went faster than a cold one.
“Wanna watch a movie?” I asked and extended the mug between us.
Surprise flickered in his eyes. Like he couldn’t believe we’d just devoured each other’s faces and now I was handing him coffee and suggesting a movie. I wanted to laugh out loud.
Did he want me to jump him?
Christ, I wanted to.
“Sure,” he finally said, straightening and reaching for the cup. I made sure our fingers didn’t brush when I handed it over.
The living room was dark; the only light was what came in from the kitchen. I knew the room well and didn’t need much light to guide me, so I didn’t bother to turn on the lamp. The dark might make it easier for him to think anyway.
The couch was across from the flat-screen hanging above the fireplace. In front of it was a white-painted coffee table we weren’t supposed to put our feet on. Ivy said so.
I set the coffee down, grabbed the remote, and sank into the cushions. Seconds later, I kicked off the shoes I was still wearing and propped my feet up on the table.
The back of the couch had some furry throw draped over it, and I leaned my head back against it while I flipped through the channels.
Drew was hovering close beside the couch, and I knew he was trying to decide if he was going to sit on it with me or in a nearby chair. I’d purposely left a lot of space on the end of the sofa.
“There’s a Terminator marathon on.” I motioned toward the screen. “I haven’t seen these in a long time.”
“It’s because the new Terminator just came out on DVD not very long ago,” Drew said and plopped down on the couch.
Score!
“Yeah? Sweet. We can rent it after we watch all these.”
Seconds later, his feet joined mine on the table (we weren’t touching), and it felt like a small victory. Hanging out like this was normal for us. Whatever normal was.
It was a good movie, entertaining. But I could only be entertained by it so much because part of my brain was so focused on his presence. On the way he smelled, the rhythm of his breathing. Every time he moved, I felt it. I was so attuned to his every move it was making me crazy.
Toward the end of the first movie, one of the more memorable lines came up, and we both quoted it along with the actor.
Both of us laughed and went for a high-five.
Only he didn’t let go.
The second our palms smacked together, Drew’s hand rotated and wrapped around mine.
My stomach literally dropped. Like I’d just jumped off a cliff.
Our hands lowered toward the cushions between us, and then tentatively, Drew threaded his fingers through mine.
I felt like I was in eighth grade again and I was on my first date at the movies. I’d sweated through my shirt I was so incredibly nervous. It had taken me until the last five minutes of the movie to reach for my date’s hand. And when she didn’t pull away, I literally thought I was the shit.
“Is this okay?” he asked. His voice was low and reminded me so much of that eighth grader I was just thinking of.
I couldn’t help it. I glanced down at our entwined hands. “It’s better than okay,” I whispered.
He turned back to the movie. I did, too, but I didn’t even see the screen. I couldn’t even have told you what was playing. All I felt was his palm against mine. The way his fingers folded into mine perfectly. I didn’t engulf his hand; he didn’t engulf mine. It was like a perfect match.
My dick went back to its previously rigid state. I was beginning to think this could be a problem.
I didn’t want him to see and freak. So with my free hand, I pulled the blanket down from behind my head and tossed it over my lap.
Drew glanced at me, then back to the TV. He totally knew what I was doing. That was one thing about trying to hide a hard-on from another dude. It was kinda impossible. Drew knew all the tricks, too.
He didn’t call me out, though, and he didn’t pull back his hand.
When the first movie went off, he dropped his feet off the table, and my stomach tightened. I wasn’t ready to get up yet. I wasn’t ready for him to get up yet.
“I gotta piss,” he announced and stood.
When he was out of sight, I wondered if maybe he used the bathroom as an excuse to let go of my hand.
“You want anything from the kitchen?” he called.
All I need is you. “Nah! I’m good!”
He came back carrying a bag of chips and two sodas, which he set near my feet and then plopped down.
This time he sat closer than before. If I moved over just an inch, our legs would be pressed together.
Could Drew actually be into me, too?
Beneath the blanket, my cock jerked. It was still fucking hard. Seriously. Apparently, one kiss from Drew was like the equivalent of an overdose of Viagra.
I’d never been hard this long before. I’d always just taken care of the situation.
But I couldn’t right now. It was like sick torture, and I enjoyed it.
“Second one’s starting,” he said, popped the top to the can, and took a sip. I watched his profile as he stared up at the TV. After a few seconds, the can was returned to the table and Drew’s back hit the cushions. Our shoulders were so wide they bumped together.
I wanted to reach for his hand, but I was unsure.
What if he didn’t want me to?
What if he does?
I glanced down at his long fingers, resting loosely on the top of his thigh. I moved like I was settling back into the couch a little bit more and dropped my arm near his. The back of his hand fell open. I took a chance and reached for it. His fingers opened wide to make room for mine.
“When I’m drunk, I call my grandma and tell her she’s hot,” I said, still looking at the TV.
“In a Scottish accent.” Drew snickered.
“You knew?” I shot him a surprised look.
“Yeah.” He chortled.
“Did Ivy tell you?” I demanded.
Drew’s hand went stiff in mine. “Ivy knows?” The humor in his voice was no longer there.
I hesitated. “Yeah, I told her a long time ago,” I explained. “The night she told me she was into Braeden.”
“‘Cause you were interested in her.” His tone was harder now, like he was upset. Drew started to pull back, and my chest seized in panic.
“Listen.” I gripped his hand tighter to prevent him from moving away.
“You and my sister is not an image I want in my head.”
“Nothing happened between me and Ivy. I swear. If it did, do you think Braeden would even let me in this house?”
Drew gave me a sidelong glance and then settled back against the cushions, but his hand was still rigid in mine.
“So…” I began, cautious. “The idea of me and Ivy bothers you?”
He made a rude sound. “The idea of you and anybody bothers me.”
Well, that made me happy. Totally fucking giddy.
He didn’t seem quite as gleeful about the announcement, so I decided to maybe not act like I’d just won the lottery.
“Most guys have one-night stands, random hook-ups when they get drunk. If there aren’t women around, they do stupid shit like run across the quad or get into fights.”
“You’re such a frat boy.” Drew teased.
“If anybody else called me that, I’d punch ‘em in the face.”
“Frat boy,” he said again.
I let him get away with it.
Because I loved him. And when it came off his lips, it sounded like a term of endearment.
“Instead of doing that stuff, I’d call Granny. Who the fuck calls their grandma to tell her she’s hot when they’re drunk?”
“I think we should get you some therapy,” he deadpanned.
“So cold,” I said, pretending I was hurt and like I was going to pull my hand back.
In reality, someone would have to use a chainsaw to get my hand out of his.
“Aww, T,” Drew drawled. “I was just kidding.” As he spoke, he pulled my hand back and lifted it to his lips.
Before either of us could think about it, he kissed the back of my hand.
My heart literally tripped. It fell flat and skipped a beat.
That chainsaw?
Not even that would be enough to separate me from him now.
I could tell the act caught him off guard. The way he stilled and pulled his face away like he was in shock.
I didn’t want to act like it was a big deal, even though I was pretty sure my heart graduated from skipping a beat to doing cartwheels inside my chest.
“Those phone calls were a sign.” I continued, calm. “One of the many signs I tried to ignore, the ones whispering in the back of my mind that maybe… No, not maybe. That I am gay.”
“Shouldn’t you be calling your grandpa, then?” Drew asked. He was totally serious. This wasn’t a joke anymore.
I smiled anyway because it was funny. But he didn’t see because he was still looking away. “If it was my grandpa I called, I wouldn’t be able to tell myself the shit I was feeling was wrong. Plus, then I could tell all the guys I was calling some chick I met online to have phone sex. I told them she thought I was Scottish.”
He didn’t say anything, but I knew he was listening.
“It’s not like I was never attracted to women.” I went on. “I was.” Drew stiffened, and I squeezed his hand. “But never like this. Never so much it tore me up inside. I think maybe that’s why I liked Ivy.”
He made a sound, but I hurried on before he could get mad again.
He was a prickly bastard tonight. But that’s okay. This was a heavy conversation.
“She was a safe choice. She didn’t like me, not like that. It was always B for her. I knew it and knew she’d never choose me anyway.”
“That actually makes sense,” he murmured.
“I lied to you.”
His head came around. “About what?”
“That night months ago? The one where I was so drunk I forgot everything?”
He nodded.
“I didn’t forget. I remember.”
“What do you remember, T?” he asked, quiet.
“I remember waking up the next morning and staring at the indent of where you’d been all night beside me and wishing you were still there.”
He sucked in a breath. I knew I’d planned to let him think. Let him make sense of the kiss. But the words wouldn’t stop tumbling out. There just wasn’t room in me for them and all the feelings I had for Drew.
“I thought maybe acting like I forgot would make it easier, and I wouldn’t lose you as a friend.”
“I almost lost you tonight. In that bar.”
“No. That bar just pushed me closer in your direction.”
“I hated seeing you with that guy.” He glanced down at our hands. “All I could think was you were mine.”
“I am yours.”
“I don’t—”
“It’s okay.” I cut him off. “I know you don’t know how you feel, and that’s okay. Just know you won’t lose me. Not tonight. Not ever. Even if…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. “I’ll always be your friend, Drew.”
“You’ve been avoiding me all week.” He accused.
I grimaced. “Cut me some slack. I never said it was going to be easy. It isn’t every day a guy finally admits to himself he’s totally into his best friend.”
He lifted his head and stared out across the darkened room as I watched the light from the TV screen flicker across his features. “I missed you.”
I cleared my throat. “Me, too.”
“I was avoiding you, too.” The words were accompanied by a very meaningful look.
My mouth went dry, and hope (the evil bastard) swelled up inside me. “Because you finally admitted to yourself you’re totally into your best friend?” I asked.
He shook his head no.
My raging hard-on wilted.
“I haven’t admitted it. I wasn’t ready.” His blue eyes lifted to mine. “But I am now.”